The Uniform Factor
by Shu of the Wind
Summary: Sometimes, what takes the most courage is just picking up the phone. Blaine calls his parents. WARNING! Spoilers for The Purple Piano Project. Klaine. Oneshot.


**The Uniform Factor  
>by Shu of the Wind<strong>

"I want to transfer schools."

He tightens his grip on the phone, not his cell – his parents don't have that number – but the corded phone that comes along with every boarding room at Dalton, smooth black plastic with an old-fashioned square base. It's always kind of reminded him of the phones from the sixties, that make a wonderful ticking noise when you spin the dial, and a satisfying thunk when the phone hits the cradle. Right now his hand is slippery with sweat as he clings to the earpiece, staring at the Katy Perry poster on the ceiling above his head. His other hand is clenched tight into his sheets, until his fingers ache and the cloth protests.

There's only silence on the other end of the phone. In the background he can hear one of his many cousins – who are omnipresent no matter what time of day he calls – shriek about Guitar Hero. His father is quiet, though, and that's almost dangerous.

"Why, dear?" says his mother, on the extension in the upstairs bedroom (how is it he knows exactly how she's sitting, hand to the cross around her neck, clutching it tight as he's holding the sheets, with her eyes wide and anxious?). "Are you not getting good grades?"

"It's not that, Mom." _I'm in love with a boy and I can't bear to be without him. _"I just need a change, is all."

"Dalton's extremely expensive." His father says, and Blaine closes his eyes for a moment. "Are you telling me that we've just wasted the two years of tuition we've been paying because you need a change?"

"No, sir." Blaine says. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what _are_ you saying, Blaine?"

He gropes for words. "I…"

"You aren't getting bullied again, are you?" asks his mother.

"No, Mom, it's not that at all. I just…" _You're out and proud. What did you always tell Kurt? Courage._ "There's someone there who needs me. That's all."

Chilly silence for a moment. Then, tentatively, his mother cuts the heavy silence. "A friend?"

"Yeah."

"Is she in trouble?"

"He, Mom." Even if he's out and proud, the fact that his mother automatically assumes 'female' after she says 'friend' in that tone of voice stings like a cactus thorn under his thumbnail. "Kurt."

"Oh, have you mentioned him before?" His father asks. "I don't remember this kid."

_Yes. I have. But not to you_. "I think so."

"Is there a problem with your friend that you're involved in? Because we're here to help you, Blaine. Honestly."

_And that's why you send me away to a school that's a whole county away from you_. Blaine closes his eyes and knocks his head against the bedstead. He knows that tone in his father's voice, the one that sounds anxious with a razor edge to it that demands an answer as to why he's bothering them with this completely ridiculous idea of transferring schools just to be with a boy. _Out and proud, out and proud, out and proud. Courage._

"I…no. No, he's not in trouble. It's nothing he can't handle."

"What school?" His father asks, before his mother can say anything.

"McKinley. It's in Lima. Not that far from where I am now. Closer to you guys, actually." He winces as soon as this comes out of his mouth. That's not exactly going to be a selling point. Not really. "But I can stay with Esther. She lives in Lima now. And I've already talked to her, she'd be okay with it."

He can almost see his mother's mouth tighten. Esther, Blaine's older sister, had never been her favorite child. "Are you sure that's the best idea, Blaine? Dalton…Dalton has so much to offer. You've gained so much by going there. You'd have much better chances of getting into Princeton if you stay on at Dalton, honey. And you've always wanted to go there, haven't you?"

_Courage_. "Yeah. Um. About that—"

"McKinley?" His father's voice is sharp. "It's not conducive to your education. You're staying at Dalton. I want to see a return on my investment in your education, Blaine, and you can't do that if you go to a crap public school in the middle of a crap town. Do you realize how many students in that school will ever go anywhere in their lives? A grand total of zero. It's a school run by losers built to produce more losers who will never amount to anything. It's not worth your time."

_Say something. Don't let the words drown. They're drowning. You need to talk._ "Dad—"

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk to us about?" He's holding the phone away from his ear now, Blaine thinks. He's turning his whole body away from the window, holding the phone away from his ear, ready to hang up. Katy Perry stares down at him from the ceiling as he pictures his father in that icy kitchen, demanding an answer of 'no,' demanding not to be bothered by a son that never really fulfilled any expectations, never really became his son, not in the way that Riley had. "Or is that it?"

_Say something. Say something. You need to say something. Now._ "Honestly, Dad, I really—"

"We don't want to argue about this, Blaine."

_Say something._

"I'm not trying to argue with you, Dad, it's just—"

"We're thinking about what's best for you, Blaine," says his mother. "Honestly."

_Say something before they drown it all out. Say something before they send you away, take over your life, ruin it all._

"They're going to win Nationals this year." He blurts, and it's the first thing that comes out of his mouth that actually makes sense to his father. There's a pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Their glee club made it to New York last year. They beat the Warblers and they're really good, Dad. They have a really good club. That'd look better on a college application than a sectionals championship. Think about it, if they win—"

"There's no guarantee of that."

"Of course there is." Blaine says, and he sounds more confident than he feels, like always. His heart is pounding in his throat. "They're the underdogs, Dad. This is their year. And I want to be there." _With him. I want to hold him when they win. When we win_, he realizes, and he knows it'll be nothing like the Warblers, but he's not sure he wants the Warblers any longer. "I mean, really, the uniforms can only do so much, Dad."

It's a chord of humor. It's partly why he cultivates jokes in his spare time. His father can never resist humor. After a moment, both of them laugh.

"If what you're saying is true—"

"It is."

"It'd be a relief not to have to raise the money to pay Dalton again this year." He ruminates on that for a second. "We'll check it out for you, Blaine." His father says. Pause. "But I have to ask…"

_Say something before they drown you out._

"Do you really want this?"

Does he? Dalton is the safe haven. It's the one place he knows, for certain, that he can be who he is without getting thrown into lockers or dumped into ditches or having food thrown in his face. He knows that. He knows that.

But there's a new place now. A new person who can solve all that. Who's handled it. Who knows what it's like. Who's braver than he ever could be.

_Kurt. _

"Yes." Blaine says, and opens his hand. The sheets fall out from between his fingers, crimped and wrinkled. "Yeah. I really do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN.**

Who else is excited about Blaine being a main character this season? ;)

I own nothing. Do you think I'd be writing fanfiction if I did?


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